Keep Calm, it's only a Tracker Jacker Hallucination
by Electric Ella
Summary: Can the vain, pampered girl from District one learn enough skills to fight for her life in the arena? She must learn to control her feelings to overcome difficulties, and stay strong under pressure. Can she survive under the open sky, starving for weeks on end? Or will she be at the mercy of the Hunger Games?
1. Chapter 1

Hi. This is my "Hunger Games" fanfic. It's a revised edition, one that I spent ages on. All the characters I made up are based on real people, but I haven't involved many of the actual characters because I want mine to be a bit different.

The main character is a bit of a work in progress. She's based on someone I know far too well, and she is a little too real for my liking!

I hope you like it. Please tell me what you think, good or bad, because this is a work in progress and I like hearing what you think. Next chapters coming soon!

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Chapter 1

The Square, District 1.

Reaping Day

I glance over at my friends. They all give me a look that suggests this somehow my fault. I try to tell them that there is nothing we can do. We're at the mercy of the Hunger Games.

I run over to my parents and my mum clutches me in her arms. My dad looks exactly as I feel: petrified. Every year I tell myself that I can keep calm, because the odds are in my favour; my name is only in there once. That doesn't help though. What about the hundreds of tributes who died in the games, relaxing because they thought the odds were in their favour?

A buzzer sounds and every child age twelve to eighteen in District one is shuffled into two large masses. One of them consists of the male children, the other the female. I've been through this twice before, being age fourteen. Apparently I'm exactly what the Capitol looks for in a female tribute: blonde, thin looking and vulnerable. Helps if I'm smaller, too. Perhaps I should just have a huge flashing sign above my head saying "Here is your female tribute for District one!"

Theta Ivory (our district representative) tosses her hair. This year it is a blood red, but as it gets down to her shoulders it seems to sparkle into a deep orange. It looks like a very bad imitation of the sunset in District twelve. I pity the Capitol people, for their ignorance. My father works in the gold mine, risking his life every day so that the Capitol residents can have pretty jewellery that they can show off to their friends.

Ivory says her usual "May the odds be _ever_ in your favour!" The Capitol accents get worse every year. She tosses her hair again and then picks out a card from the girls bowl of names. The crowd holds their breath as she proceeds to drop it back, then changes her mind and fishes it out again. She makes a great show of picking it open with her talons.

"The female tribute for District one is..." She places her hands in a steeple position and surveys the audience. This is why she is so good at what she does. Like a magician, she captivates her viewers until they can bear the suspense no longer. My heart is threatening to leap out my ribcage at the moment. It can't be me. The odds are in my favour. Please! I don't deserve this!

"Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you have all been waiting for... Our female tribute is...Sapphire Fields!"

Every face is turned to stare at me. My head is spinning. I feel faint. I need someone to tell me this is all a massive, evil practical joke. I want to wake up in my bed at home and be comforted by my mother. I want anything but this. I can feel my heart pounding. Every eye turns on me. I can't breathe.

The silence is mind numbing. One of the guards pushes me into a chair on the front stage and stands impatiently beside me.

Ivory wastes more time deciding the paper to choose for the other tribute. By the time she says "And the male tribute is..." I am unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

The train to the Capitol

I wake with a bad headache and an empty stomach. My bones are unhappy with their current position, so I move. I regret it.

There is a knock on my door. For a blissful moment I think it's my mother, come to tell me that I need to get up, go to school. But Theta Ivory walks in, and I can hear the gentle rhythm of the train as it thunders along the tracks. I want to be back in District one. In fact, I want to be anywhere than here. My mother once said that I will never make my life in District one. All women in District one work for the capitol people: they make their jewellery, act in plays for their entertainment, model the latest fashions for them to see...a women's life is nothing in District one.

If I can't even find something I'm good at when I'm at home, how will I survive this? I've immediately banished all hopes of ever seeing my family again. I know that when I leave the Capitol, it will be in one of the badly-made, Capitol-issue coffins that they put dead tributes in to send back to their districts.

I haul myself painfully and stiffly out of the bed and look around the room that will be my home until I get to the Capitol. Rich furnishings, with lavish decor. The bed has a silk coverlet, with a pattern that must have taken a poor, undeserving district worker weeks to sew.

I peruse the beautiful dresses with both desire and loathing. Desire, because they were the most beautiful dresses I had ever seen, loathing because they would soon become my shroud. I put on a pretty red one that had white flowers around the hem, and walked out.

The train was as lavish as my room. My tired vision couldn't take it all in!


End file.
